LOVE PAINTED IN LIES
Prologue
Some stories begin with love.
Some begin with war.
But theirs began with a promise, one whispered under the fading glow of a streetlamp, sealed with youthful dreams and a future full of light. Neither of them knew how quickly love could twist into something darker... or how far a wounded heart could go just to feel whole again.
This is not a tale
Chapters
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Chapter 1
Eliana discovered love the year she least expected it, in a season where the sun seemed to shine brighter and school corridors felt like endless possibilities. She was the type who lived in colours and brushstrokes, whose fingers were often stained with paint, who stayed after class to perfect her canvases while others rushed home. Everyone knew her as the girl who aimed high scholarship aspirations, art competitions waiting to be won, a future she guarded fiercely. Romance, she believed, was a distraction for people who had time to fall apart and piece themselves back together, she didn't think she was one of them.
Then Adrian came.
He transferred from another city mid-term tall, quiet, with that kind of presence that entered a room gently yet confidently. People noticed him instantly, but he wasn't loud or showy. He smiled rarely, but when he did, it reached his eyes softly, like a secret shared with the world. His first week was a blur of introductions. Girls whispered about him, boys tried to befriend him, teachers praised his smart answers. Eliana barely paid attention until the day fate decided to intervene.
It was a Tuesday, the kind with lazy heat pressing down on the school like a heavy blanket. Students gathered under trees during break, escaping the sun. Eliana sat alone sketching a distant church tower, lost in the rhythm of pencil strokes. She didn't notice someone approach until a shadow fell across her page.
"Your drawing's so detailed. You did that in one break?" a voice asked.
She looked up Adrian.
Her heart skipped, not romantically, but from surprise. She wasn't used to attention, especially from people everyone else admired.
"Yes," she replied, tucking a braid behind her ear. "It keeps me calm."
He smiled slightly. "Mind if I watch?"
Most people stared at her art like an exhibit, but he watched her, curious about the person behind the pencil. It felt different. He sat beside her, careful not to intrude, and asked questions about shading, perspective, her favourite paint medium. Not small talk. Real interest.
Break ended too soon, and they walked to class together. That was the beginning.
Days passed, and they found themselves paired for a history project. At first, it was just work research meetings in the library, exchanging notebooks, drafting timelines. But school projects have a way of creating moments. Their conversations stretched beyond history dates into life stories. Adrian confessed he loved music, especially acoustic guitar, though he never performed publicly. His mother wanted him to study medicine, his father pushed for engineering, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. Eliana spoke about art like breathing, about the colours that reflected her moods. They were different, yet something connected quietly, curiosity, respect, and slowly, comfort.
One rainy afternoon they stayed back in school to finish the final slides. Thunder echoed outside, and everyone rushed home, but electricity flickered and went out. They remained, trapped, their project only half-done. Instead of panicking, they sat near the window, watching raindrops race down the glass.
"It sounds strange," Adrian said, voice soft under the storm's rhythm, "but rain makes me feel less alone."
Eliana nodded. "It makes everything slow enough to feel."
He looked at her as if her words painted something only he understood.
That moment lingered, warm and quiet.
By the time the rain lightened, something unspoken had formed between them. They walked under his jacket, sharing its cover from the drizzle. Their hands brushed accidentally no confession, no dramatic music, nothing like movies, just two hearts learning to beat near each other.
Soon they were inseparable. Others noticed. Their classmates teased gently "Eliana and Adrian, the creative duo," "History couple," "Art and music." She blushed at jokes, but a part of her felt proud, chosen even. For someone who thought love was a distraction, she began to look forward to school more than ever. Study sessions turned into long conversations. Messages at night stretched until sleep stole one of them away mid-reply. They exchanged playlists, photos of paintings and sunsets, poems found online. Eliana felt her chest bloom with warmth she did not know how to name.
One evening, as they walked home from a debate event, the street was washed with golden dusk. Children played nearby, a football bouncing across the road. Eliana laughed at a joke he made a sound light and free. Adrian paused, watching her in a way she didn't notice until silence replaced his laughter.
"Eliana," he said, voice steady but gentle, "I think I'm falling for you."
The world seemed to still. Cars passed, wind rustled leaves, but her heart grew loud. She'd never been confessed to before. She looked at him, his eyes holding sincerity like an open book.
"But we're young," she whispered.
"I know," he replied. "But feelings don't wait for age."
She didn't answer at first. Love felt like a cliff thrilling, terrifying. Yet something inside her stepped forward. She smiled faintly.
"I think... I'm falling too."
No kiss. No dramatic embrace. Just two hearts realizing they had become each other's safe space.
Their relationship blossomed. They sat together in class, shared meals during break, competed playfully over grades. On weekends, they walked through markets and parks, sometimes silent, sometimes laughing endlessly. Adrian played guitar for her once shy fingers trembling but his voice was soft and beautiful. She painted him a small portrait, one he said he'd keep forever. They made promises to support each other's dreams, to stay honest, to never let misunderstandings break what they had.
Love was simple. Pure. Like a sunrise before the clouds form.
Eliana didn't know then that the brightest sun casts the darkest shadows. She didn't know that love can be tested, stretched, or shattered. At that time, she believed forever was easy just two hearts and a promise.
If someone told her betrayal waited just beyond the horizon, she might have laughed and said their bond was too strong.
But life writes its own chapters.
And this was only the beginning.
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7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything.
"No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines."
Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state.
Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity.
I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.
8.4
"How can you smile like that when neither of your fathers are here at your own wedding reception?" Pond asked, eyeing Dunk, who stood in the gallery, smiling towards his newly-wedded husband.
Dunk's smile didn't waver, but his eyes darkened. He turned to Pond, voice sharp, "Do you think I don't care? That I'd go against them on purpose?"
Pond responded without hesitation, "Aren't you doing exactly that?"
"No, I'm not," Dunk snapped. His voice dropped lower, colder. "I'm standing here for my pride-the same pride he crushed. I'm not a child who goes crying to his parents. He destroyed me, P'Pond. Now it's my turn. I'm going to destroy his life-completely."
Pond looked shaken. "You can't marry someone for revenge, Dunk. I told you-I'm here for you. I'll never let anyone from the Guthithanan family hurt you again."
Dunk's voice cracked as he exploded, "But he crossed the line that night!" He scanned the room and quickly pulled Pond into a quieter corner.
His voice was low and furious. "He shattered everything I had. And now, with this marriage, I'm going to make him live with the consequences. He's trapped with me now-forever. I won't let him walk away so easily."
His gaze flicked across the room-directly to Joong, who stood beside Sarawat, calmly speaking to a business partner. Joong caught Dunk's stare and instinctively looked his way.
Dunk raised his champagne glass with a mocking smile. A toast to war.
Joong clenched his jaw, returning the gesture coolly-but his burning eyes slid to Pond, full of rage and warning.
7.1
"You broke the first rule, Princess. That means I get to take something from you. I'll start with this," he said, tugging at my panties and a needy throb ran straight through my core.
"Kyren, don't," I tried but it was to no avail.
He roughly pulled at the flimsy material, covering my most intimate part. The sound of lace ripping, filled the room. And the cool air from the AC bit into my exposed skin.
His hands slid up my back. He unclasped my bra with ease and it soundlessly dropped to the floor. His gaze raked over my trembling form with a satisfied hunger.
"You're not a cheerleader tonight. You're just mine. And I'm going to spend the next few hours showing you exactly what happens when you break my rules," he stated, before pushing my legs wide open with his knee.
××
Hailey thought she could handle the "Ice King." She thought she could seduce him, win the bet, and walk away with her heart intact. But Kyren sees right through her games. He doesn't want her seduction, he wants her submission.
As the lines between a dare and reality blur, Hailey finds herself trapped between her father's expectations and a man who wants to claim every inch of her. In a game where the rules keep changing, Hailey is about to learn that the Ice King doesn't just freeze people out... he burns them down.
9.3
They call Dante Moretti the ruthless and heartless mafia boss. Seven years ago, he made a
deal with Elara Vance. But he used her, broke her, and planned to send her to a medical facility
after she produces an heir.
Scared for her life, Elara ran away. Now, an entirely different person has returned to New York.
She doesn't want his money, and she certainly doesn't want his heart, unless it's on her
operating table.
The girl he destroyed is dead. The woman who replaced her is the only one who can keep him
alive. He's dying for a second chance, but he's just waiting for the first cut.
7.7
Five years of war, three peace summits. One rule that never changed. Ray Carter and Levi Morgan stay on opposite sides, until the night fate decides otherwise. Ray feels nothing, rules everything and answers to no one. He built his empire on control and his reputation on fear, and he has never once lost either.
Then Levi walks into the room. His enemy, his rival. The heir of the pack that took everything from him, his mate. One bond, two men on opposite sides of a war neither of them started. Laws older than their bloodlines demand they reject each other, walk away, and pretend it never happened. But the bond doesn't care about laws and neither, it turns out, does Ray. Someone already knows their secret and someone who has been waiting for exactly this moment.
The question isn't whether Ray and Levi can survive each other. It's whether either of them will survive what's coming and who exactly wants them to find out the hard way?
9.4
I was the daughter of a defeated Alpha, kneeling as a broken war spoil before the ruthless Lycan King, Kaelen Varg.
Through a twisted misunderstanding with a spiked drink, the tyrant lost control. But when he attacked me, an impossible spark ignited between us. His inner wolf roared in triumph, recognizing me as his fated Mate, and he claimed me in the heat of the night.
But the next morning, he woke up with another woman's name on his lips. Realizing he had surrendered to a lowly tribute, his eyes filled with absolute, violent loathing. To erase the humiliation of our bond, he shoved me to the floor like garbage.
"Take her to the Barrens. Leave her there. Make sure she never comes back."
His Beta dragged me to a sealed, sun-baked wasteland crawling with mutated beasts. They clamped silver cuffs onto my wrists, searing my flesh and suppressing my wolf, leaving me to die a slow, agonizing death.
I lay in the scorching dirt, the silver burning into my bones. I couldn't understand how a fated Mate could be so merciless. Why was my life worth less than his twisted pride? Why did I have to be fed to monsters just so he could keep his throne spotless?
The cold rage in my core solidified into a diamond-hard resolve. I forced my bleeding body to stand in the desolate wasteland. I will not die here. I will survive, and I will live to see his kingdom burn.